Post by hawkeye on May 11, 2020 1:04:54 GMT
The lights extinguish throughout the arena. With the fans’ eyes still adjusting to the dark, their ears are assaulted by a piercing guitar shriek from the speakers. This is followed by the pounding of drums and a few more shrieks. A spotlight kicks on in time with the first verse of Three Days Grace ‘Chalk Outline’ and the growing sense of unease among those assembled gets that much stronger when they see the beam rain directly in front of the entryway.
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePVErcAUzK8 )
Though she’s looking at the floor, those in attendance are impressed even without seeing her face. The flaxen-haired beauty is indeed an Amazon, a statuesque blonde not far from six feet, her legs seemingly a good two thirds of that total.
ASHLEY LOCKE:
Said gams are exquisitely sculpted and appear downright dangerous, as do her abdominals and chest, the latter armored in an orangish-red leather bikini top decorated with an intricate pattern of small metal studs. Her bottoms match the top, as do her pads and boots, though the pads are basic lycra and lack any sort of adornment. A detail for the discerning eye, the outer edge of each boot is adorned with a stylized head and shoulders of a black horse.
Striding down the ramp, the lanky blonde shows not the slightest interest in the fans reaching out to her, those lengthy legs carrying her to ringside at a rapid rate. Climbing elegantly up the steps, the former, long-time tag champion as a member of The Three slips lithely through the ropes then saunters to the center of the ring. She raises her arms in an invitation for all present to admire her transcendent form. Admire they do, wolf whistles mingling with the roars as the former Aphrodite strides to her corner, preparing for a rare singles challenge.
The statuesque blonde turns to the crowd and motions the assembled to lower to their knees to worship the Goddess of Love and The Three’s most underrated deity. The crowd is unwilling to pray to the golden-maned idol, cheers turning to a mix with jeers, the Black Courtier’s arrogance turning some against her. The ring announcer cuts in to officially welcome the divine creature to battle.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. First, hailing from New York, New York, she stands five feet eleven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and forty pounds. She is the Heartbreaker and the Love-taker, Aphrodite herself, this is… ASHLEY LOCKE!”
Locke climbs to the middle buckle, spreads her long arms and legs wide, demanding and receiving attention, though it could be considered mixed at best, the remainder of the night’s judgment likely dependent on the opponent she would face.
As Katy Perry’s California Gurls erupts from the sound system, the crowd seems unsure if this can possibly mean what it might, and that FAWN has indeed added Golden State Wrestling’s enduring icon. ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=F57P9C4SAW4 )
The redhead emerges and takes a stance, hands on hips, admiring the growing ovation, the FAWNatics both welcoming and welcoming back Aphrodite’s long-ago tag partner Artemis and the LA-based fed’s legendary California Angel Colleen O’Neal.
COLLEEN O’NEAL
The blue-eyed beauty waves to her adoring and inaugural Florida-based choir before racing to the ring in her classic style. The long-time face of the Golden State franchise sprints to the steps before halting and drinking in what has to be one of the most glorious moments of a fateful career.
The prodigal daughter ascends the steps and hops over the top, taking a tour of the FAWN ring she’d last seen over a decade ago. The auburn-haired veteran gazes at her former fellow goddess, Colleen having long given up her title, becoming an immortal mortal in the Golden State.
She strides to the towering blonde and offers a hand, but Locke wants none of it, slapping away the proffered palm. O’Neal looks momentarily dejected but accepts there will be no rapprochement between the one-time deities. The California Angel backs her way toward her corner, the years teaching her better than to turn her head to such a dangerous and motivated foe.
Colleen makes as though she is unclasping her surrendered GSW championship hardware from around her waist, raising the mock belt high, lifting the decibels further as the Orlando crowd understands it to mean she is on a flightpath to claim her first FAWN belt, whichever and whenever that might be.
Garbed in her iconic tight spandex one-piece, halved in pink and sky blue with pink boots to mid-thigh and silver fingerless gloves, the Cali native is ready for her surprise entrance back into women wrestling’s premiere promotion.
Gear: ( www.dollskill.com/halloween-sexy-wrestling-champ-costume-set-pink-turquoise.html?gclid=Cj0KCQiAt_PuBRDcARIsAMNlBdr_8wE5qC_kyeTo6lFLvIAIVfi-oFHrA_YlWbDRyxEebaPXuRlroFIaAmIzEALw_wcB without the ‘belt’ ) .
The ring announcer waits for a break in the ovation and gives up after a half-dozen more seconds, deciding to shout instead.
“AND HER OPPONENT! Standing five feet three inches tall and weighing in at 114 pounds. From San Francisco, FAWN’s newest cherub, the California Angel…Colleen O’Neal!”
As the throng threatens to bring the roof down, the beloved Colleen bows to her new Choir. Noticing Ashley slinking out to the center of the ring, O’Neal turns her attention back to a foe that has eight inches and 25 pounds on her, the GSW icon most definitely thrown into the deep end of the pool where she’ll have to use her wile to swim with the sharks rather than be eaten alive, a veteran victim on a last failed ‘glory tour’.
The bell brings the meeting of former friends together. Ashley takes the direct approach. Considering the physical deficits to which O’Neal must adjust, she circles out of her corner, keeping a couple feet from Locke as she puts her knowledge to bear on evening the odds. Finally, the redhead surges forward, ready for a collar-and-elbow when there seems no other choice. But when the Love-taker reaches, Colleen slips beneath her grasp and wheels behind the tall grappler, wrapping a waistlock around the former tag champion. Lowering into a slight crouch, Ashley anchors herself against any throw the smaller FAWN newcomer might have in mind and O’Neal can barely budge Locke.
But the years have proven what the former Artemis couldn’t, and O’Neal pushes the sole of her boot into the pit of Locke’s left knee, forcing the blonde to genuflect in front of her, allowing Colleen to slap on a side headlock when she slides next to Ashley. Locke pushes back to stooped feet. O’Neal, keeping her foe bent at the waist with the possession of the blonde’s braincase, races forward. She leaps, legs extended, to bulldog the Love-Taker, but the blonde’s palms push against the hips of O’Neal and she pops loose, remaining on her feet. Colleen manages to stick her landing instead of crashing to her backside and the combatants are back to neutral.
The former Aphrodite gives the redhead a golf clap and Colleen returns a bow, grim emerging as she starts to orbit around the ring again, the two coming together centerstage, this time the lock-up connecting. It takes but an instant for Ashley to begin rattling her counterpart from side to side, showing off her strength advantage. She sends the Angel into a backpedal, pressing Colleen’s back into the buckles before releasing and sending a hammer blow toward the crown of O’Neal’s skull. But age hasn’t taken away most of the veteran’s quickness. She ducks under and slides by, Ashley impacting the top buckle instead.
Taking a legal liberty, she grabs Ashley by her long flaxen locks from behind and sends Locke’s forehead banging into the top buckle. However, an attempt at a second is upended when the blonde wraps her palms around the top ropes on either side to put on the brakes. Ashley shakes her head.
“It’s adorable you made something of yourself in the minors,” Ashley purrs, “but your back in the bigs now.”
Locke swings an elbow back, but Colleen deftly dips beneath. Now face to face, or more accurately face-to-neck, O’Neal uses Ashley’s temporary lack of balance after the swing and mis to wrap her arms around the former tag champ and belly-to-belly suplex her up and over, drawing a surprised murmur from the FAWNatics.
Ashley lands on her spine, skidding to a stop. She reaches for her aching lower back as she sits up, then receives a soccer kick to the afflicted area from the auburn-haired grappler, Colleen continuing to show she belongs.
As Ashley’s spine curves further in reaction, Colleen’s on the move, throwing her frame into the ropes in front of Locke and rebounding into a low dropkick to the Love-taker’s chest, flattening her foe to the canvas and bouncing the back of her skull into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Colleen passes on a pin atop the horizontal blonde, instead climbing to her feet and hitting the cables again, this time leaping into the middle rope while grabbing the top. She springboards into a u-turn and leaps above the splayed Aphrodite, dropping a leg across the chest and throat of her foe. Ashley spasms, legs flying upward before she settles into a pinned position, the GSW icon leaving her abbreviated legs draped across for the…
ONE…
Locke’s shoves the limbs off and rolls up to hands and knees, rubbing her throat, eyes ablaze with anger at being treated like a rookie.
O’Neal isn’t concerned about Ashley’s mental state, the professional’s professional snatches Locke’s noggin and pulls her to stooped feet. She surges forward with Locke in tow, again leaping with legs extended. And this time Ashley has no response, bulldogged into the canvas roughly. The towering blonde idly flops to her back after the impact, staring blankly into space as Colleen covers in a lateral press, hooking one of Locke’s endless legs for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ashley throws a shoulder up with enough force, it helps O’Neal pop to her feet. There’s a ‘damn’ moment in Colleen’s baby blues, but it’s only there a split-second before the veteran is back in motion.
Colleen takes off for the ropes again while Ashley slowly rises to her feet. She’s halfway up when the redhead returns and O’Neal, despite her small size, knocks Locke flat, using her foe’s instability to more than overcome the size disadvantage. O’Neal takes a moment to look down on the splayed blonde and heads for the opposite cables. Again, Ashley tries to beat the rebounding Angel to stable verticality but again the San Fran native plows through the bigger blonde, putting Ashley on her back.
Though hovering above the flattened Aphrodite, Colleen is huffing and puffing, Mother Time rearing her noble head. Something more is necessary. O’Neal heads for the nearest buckles, climbing up carefully and turning to find a rising foe. The auburn-haired grappler leaps from her perch, folding into a tuck as she flies at the wide-eyed Ashley for a meteora.
Meteora ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lA20IgALrLI )
But the power of the Love-taker presents, the big blonde catching the balled Colleen. She staggers but does not tumble to the canvas. Instead, after collecting her balance, she transitions to a ring-rattling powerbomb, nearly putting the California Angel THROUGH the deck, Colleen bouncing a foot off the mat before spreading into a lifeless starfish above, her legs still possessed by the seated Locke, the shoulders the former Artemis on the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
O’Neal rolls a shoulder off the mat, flopping to her side, still between the extended and limitless legs of the former tag champion.
Locke slowly moves to her knees, recovering from the early onslaught, but latching onto O’Neal’s auburn locks and pulling her up to a seated position, the glazed baby blues showing vacancy. With her free hand, Ashley paintbrushes the dazed Angel, whipping O’Neal’s head to the side but bringing some of the grappler’s senses back into to place.
Ashley hauls Colleen up with her, moves her grip to a wrist and heaves the veteran on her way to the ropes. O’Neal rebounds, this time out of control, and is met with a Big Boot from the Amazonian, nearly ripping Colleen’s head from her neck, the back of O’Neal’s skull bouncing off the canvas in frightening fashion. Locke stands over the splayed redhead, gazing down.
“You haven’t changed that much,” Locke assures. “Except the crow’s feet.”
The Love-taker places a boot on Colleen’s chest and Castle drops to the canvas to count it out…
ONE…
TWO…
O’Neal shoves the foot off and rolls to hands and knees where she tries to let her gray matter catch up to her reflexes. Ashley ‘helps’ the Golden State Wrestling icon to her feet. She sidles behind the wobbling redhead, slipping her arms around the head and neck of her long-ago partner, finally tightening a cobra clutch around the temples and carotid of her foe. But Ashley has no intention of waiting until the smaller wrestler can no longer take the pressure and the mass on her slumping shoulders.
Ashley uses the constricting grip to launch O’Neal into the air and THUMP her into the deck hard enough the prodigal daughter might have made a plywood angel instead of a snow version.
Cobra Clutch Slam: ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcbMuW5-mj0 )
Convinced, she’s righted the pecking order of greater and lesser goddesses, Ashley rises and parades around the ring, pointing back at the stirring O’Neal, shouting about Colleen’s new status as a significantly smaller fish in a large pond.
She returns to a rising Angel, dips and wraps her arms around the spandex-sheathed tummy of the veteran, cinching tight, chest to chest, lifting O’Neal to tiptoes and beyond. Bear hug locked behind the lower back of the wincing Colleen, Ashley shakes her diminutive foe from side to side.
Starch removed, the towering blonde lets Colleen’s boots return to the canvas for a moment. Ashley slips next to her former partner, slipping her head beneath a limp arm of O’Neal. Wrapping an arm around the lower back of the Angel, she vaults a drowsy Colleen off the canvas and in a graceful sweeping motion, deposits O’Neal to the deck with an Olympic Slam.
Olympic Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9ABHCVOyns )
Showing more than the anguish of the landing but also her years of in-ring action, Colleen rolls out under the nearby bottom rope after the impact, plopping to the floor in an attempt to end Aphrodite’s apocalypse.
Ashley has no such interest in the reborn Artemis surviving. It’s clear why Christian has thrown them together. There would be a triumphant return underdog story or an exercise in showing FAWN is where the elite plays. And who’s more so than a member of The Three. The thought leaves Locke with no choice but to follow her victim to the outside, not wanting O’Neal to escape with a count-out defeat, one that might be spun into something approaching a draw.
The towering blonde’s boots land on the floor a few feet from the Angel, Collen kneeling, leaning into the ring steps as she tries to recover. She glances up at the approaching Aphrodite and holds up a plaintive hand.
“You want pity?” Locke growls. “You came back to the wrong place.”
Ashley sends a looping kick at Colleen’s chin, but the auburn-haired grappler ducks clear and Locke sends her foot CRASHING into the steel steps. Yelping in pain from the miss, Ashley doesn’t dare put any weight on the injured ankle. She leans against the apron as the redhead rises, snatching Lock’s leg as she does.
Lifting the limb of her foe, the FAWN returnee draws it in closer, locking an arm around the blonde’s knee. She uses the stem has a buggywhip, spinning Ashley by violently wrenching her leg, sending the Amazonian’s torso RAMMING into the multileveled steel with a resounding CLANG. As the released Ashley tumbles off the other side of the steps, pooling around the corner, Colleen wearily climbs to her feet and moves to the top step, looking over Locke.
“Just respect,” the California Angel insists as she watches the lanky blonde crabwalk away from her in retreat, ass sliding along the thinly-padded cement.
Halfway down the length of the ring, seemingly safely removed from her foe, Ashley rises. As she does, the beloved Bay Area idol skips to the edge of the mat, takes a couple steps, and LAUNCHES in a forward flip, the airborne icon CRASHING into Locke’s chest. The duo collapse to the arena floor, but it’s the former Artemis on top, Ashley violently sandwiched to the cement.
The wincing Colleen rolls off her crash pad, moves to the barricade and pumps her fist at the adoring crowd, the Floridians already taking California’s Angel under their wings. The blue-eyed ginger merrily slaps hands with a couple front-row denizens before turning her attention back to the ridiculously leggy but badly battered task at hand.
With the count to ‘SEVEN’, Castle proceeding at a glacier pace to keep the match from finishing in unsatisfying fashion, Colleen gathers up the considerably bigger blonde and uses Ashley’s own determination to rise to stuff the Love-taker back in the squared circle. O’Neal follows at ‘NINE’, not a hint of worry in the veteran’s visage, Colleen’s experience in beating counts keeping her calm.
O’Neal watches intently as Ashley reaches hands and knees. The energized Angel races in from the side, grabbing Locke’s head as she flies by in a forward flip and sends the Goddess of Love crashing to the canvas with a spinning neckbreaker. Ashley cradles her head, beautiful face contorted in a grimace. The crowd roars as Colleen uses the momentum to pop to her feet. Some worried Golden State dominance meant little on her new level, but the blazing blue eyes of the rapturous redhead show her talent level translates. O’Neal pumps her fist at the crowd, playing to her new Choir, and they respond with a roaring ovation.
Colleen quickly turns her attention back to the splayed Locke. Passing on a pin attempt, O’Neal locks a two-handed grip around Ashley’s noggin and tugs the rubbery, flaxen-maned deity to her haunches.
“Do you think I’m ready for the big leagues, now?” O’Neal asks.
Ashley shrieks in a rage, sending an uppercut between the alabaster thighs of her former partner, the crook of Locke’s elbow SMASHING into the Angel’s kitty. Azure eyes bugging, her jaw dropping, Colleen rises to tiptoes, the pain pulsating through her frame. Locke removes her arm and uses the frozen O’Neal to climb to her feet where, even slightly bent, she towers over the Bay Area beauty.
“There’s your answer, midget,” Ashley grunts.
The Love-taker slides behind the teary-eyed FAWN newbie, wraps her arms tight around Colleen’s gulping midriff and lifts her off the canvas. The Amazon genuflects and doubles down on Colleen’s aching undercarriage with an Atomic Drop, seemingly attempting to split O’Neal up the middle.
Colleen’s quaking legs keep her vertical for a few seconds after the knee of the overlooked member of The Three is removed, but she finally collapses in on herself, dropping into a fetal ball as Locke works out some of aches and pains.
“If you don’t believe there are levels of heaven,” Ashley offers between deep breaths, “you better understand there are levels of hell. And you’re going to pass through every one of them until I decide when your ‘welcome home’ ends.”
The Love-taker plucks what’s left of O’Neal out of her shell, grasping a shoulder and elbow when she gets the redheaded stepchild straightened enough to fling to the opposite ropes. Using an Irish Whip, Locke sends Colleen on her way, the power of the blonde transferred to the waning Angel. O’Neal flies into the rubber-coated steel and rebounds toward a ready Ashley. Locke lifts a Big Boot toward a point directly between Colleen’s eyes.
But the prodigal daughter ducks under, using her lack of height as an advantage, barely breaking stride as she slips under the looming sole. The California Angel sprints to her second set of cables and makes a u-turn toward a spinning Aphrodite. Ashley’s right arm shoots out as Colleen approaches, her hand wrapping around the elegant throat of the freckled veteran. O’Neal’s peepers bulge, her head softly shaking as her foe’s fingers dig into her neck.
Ashley snatches a handful of spandex on the redhead’s near hip with her opposite hand and UP COLLEEN GOES, the golden-maned Amazon lifting her foe HIGH and THUMPING her to the thinly-sheathed plywood with a chokeslam that rattles the ring and does the same and then some to the demolished O’Neal, Collen spasming to stillness in a starfish at the feet of the woman who, truth be told, certainly looks more the part of a goddess.
Ashley lowers her right knee to Colleen’s bosom, arrogantly pinning the annihilated Angel. Castle drops to the canvas to count out the unhappy result…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The FAWNatics rumble with relief as the lovely Left Coaster revivifies, throwing a shoulder up with the help of the haughty pin. O’Neal rolls to a shoulder and hip, but it’s all she can manage, an angry Aphrodite forced to ‘help’ the spent redhead up if she wants to continue the assault on the helpless returnee.
Dipping in front of the swaying, barely aware redhead, Ashley straps her arms around O’Neal’s midriff and cinches tight. She lifts her smaller foe off the canvas, showing off the sinewy, lean, long power Colleen can’t match. Forcing the breath from the gasping, groaning Angel, Locke works the GSW icon like a bellows, closing the loop of her embrace in stages, draining what’s left of the veteran, the tips of Colleen’s boots stretching to find solid ground. The flaxen-haired Amazon rattles the increasingly limp and lethargic O’Neal then tosses her away like a chew toy, the former Artemis left in a heap at the feet of the glistening Goddess of Love.
Ashley plays to the jeering crowd, letting them know she is what a deity looks like as she lords over the softly stirring auburn-haired warrior. With Colleen not recovering to vertical as quickly as Aphrodite desires, the blonde tugs a struggling O’Neal to her feet. She inserts the dipped head of her foe between her endlessly long legs and wraps her arms around Colleen’s gulping midriff. With a grunt, she flips the flaccid Colleen up her frame, shifting O’Neal to her right shoulder on the way up, leaving the California Angel in an awkward arch across it.
Ashley stomps in a circuit around the ring, sending pulses of pain through Colleen’s battered vertebrae with every thumping step. Reaching the end of her trip, she manically rattles O’Neal’s arched frame on her shoulder, demanding the Angel surrender. Though Colleen squeaks piteously, she doesn’t give in and a pissed Locke drops to her backside trying to snap her foe’s spine in two.
A jellied Colleen rolls off, ending prone and unmoving, the formerly excited crowd silenced at the show of dominance on the part of the Love-taker. After drawing in a few extra recovery breaths, Ashley slides to the splayed redhead and covers in a lateral press, hooking a leg for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The cruel story of O’Neal’s failed return is put on hold by her stalwart determination, Colleen eeking a shoulder off the canvas to Ashley’s dismay. Locke runs a set of fingers through her long golden locks, Aphrodite approaching disbelief. Not that it mattered. She would pierce the Angel’s heart with Cupid’s Arrow and that would be the end of the fairy tale for the returnee.
Grabbing O’Neal by her head and a wrist, Locke pulls the rubbery redhead to her feet and leans her against the ropes. She balls her right fist and gives it a smooch before loading the Heart Punch that obliterated the bloodpumper of many a foe. She shoots the deadly ‘arrow’ toward the cleft of Colleen’s bosom but the Angel pivots and the Arrow glides past, missing its mark.
Colleen sends a side kick blasting into the expansive abs of the Amazon, and another, and another, the tall blonde appearing less goddess-like after each. The auburn-haired bulldog tugs the slightly bent Locke into a front facelock and, grabbing a handful of the Love-taker’s garb on her hip, snap suplexes the bigger woman up and over. Ashley’s spine BANGS into the deck. But the adrenaline-filled Angel isn’t done. She rolls to her feet, bringing Ashley with her, rinses and repeats. AGAIN the Goddess of Love THUMPS into the mat, back arching. Determined to get her set of three, Colleen pulls Ashley up again but, seeming to realize the troika is too much for her body to take, she yanks Locke toward her, tumbling to the canvas and into a small package, or as small as a near six-footer can be packaged for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The package pops open, Ashley breaking free and ending on her keister, glancing worriedly at Castle, who holds up two fingers.
Locke’s check gives the recovering redhead a chance to reach her feet and punt Aphrodite in the base of her spine, sending the seated Ashley lurching forward, face twisting in pain from the boot. O’Neal turns and hits the ropes, racing out and grabbing Locke’s head from behind as she flips over a shoulder, PLANTING the face of the former tag champ into the canvas-covered plywood between her lengthy stems. Ashley whiplashes from the impact, ending prone and staring at the rafters in a daze.
Despite her moniker, the Angel isn’t a frequent flyer but that doesn’t stop the veteran from hustling to the nearby buckles, climbing to the middle and launching with legs extended, dropping one of the abbreviated stems across the throat of her foe. Ashley’s body spasms from the impact before falling still, flat under O’Neal, who scrambles to a crossbody pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
AGAIN the Cali legend barely gets the second slap from Castle let alone a third before she’s pushed off. On her knees, Colleen sweeps her auburn mane back with both sets of fingers, showing exasperation. She rises and calls upon her newfound Choir for inspiration. The crowd doesn’t hesitate, cheering on their new favorite.
The veteran slips behind a rising, wobbly Ashley. She dips her head between the trembling stems of the towering blonde, wrapping her arms around the gams of the golden-maned Goddess and UP Ashley DOESN’T go. Perhaps foolishly, Colleen tries for her Cali Redwood electric chair drop by elevating the blonde on her shoulders for the ring-rattling ending, but the size difference and her condition reduce the effort to a nudge upward for the Love-taker, moving her to tiptoes and no further.
Instead, reaching behind her, Aphrodite hooks the Angel’s arms, Colleen’s head still tight between Locke’s thighs. The third of The Three drops to her knees, PLANTING Colleen’s face into the mat with an inverted Drop Out of which Cynthia Mitchell would be proud. Ashely flops forward to her chest, spent. But O’Neal, also face down between the blonde’s gams, is barely conscious, save an errant twitch.
As the crowd chants “THIS IS AWESOME”, a pained Castle knows he can’t hold his count any longer and starts moving toward ‘TEN’ on both stilled figures.
At ‘FIVE’, Ashley pushes to hands and knees and casts a glance over a shoulder. As Colleen does the same at ‘EIGHT’, the blonde throws a mule kick behind her, CRACKING it between the baby blues of her former friend and sending O’Neal tumbling away, back into a semi-stupor as the Love-taker slowly rises.
Ashley strides to the dilapidated veteran and plucks her off the canvas, guiding the dazed Angel to the nearest set of buckles. She lifts the redhead from behind, placing her in a stance on the middle ropes then dipping an arm between O’Neal’s jellied legs, starting to lift her off for Love At First Sight.
Love At First Sight ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuEoimAW604 )
But before Ashley can pull away from the corner and deliver the Burning Hammer that would end the Angel’s beautiful story, Colleen creates extra thrust, pushing off the buckles and flipping out of Ashley’s grasp, landing on her boot soles, if unsteadily.
The startled Locke pivots into a toe kick, Colleen doubling over the Amazon, a burst of breath escaping Ashley’s lips. Springing into action literally, Colleen captures Ashley’s lowered head in a front facelock and leaps past Locke to the middle buckle. She pushes away, spinning both her and her cargo, and lays out, SPIKING the crown of Aphrodite’s skull into the canvas with a springboard DDT. Ashley flips through the impact, skidding to a flaccid stop mid-ring.
Colleen drops next to the no longer towering blonde, on her back next to Ashley, though pointed in the opposite direction. She slips a figure-four head scissors around the skull of her former partner then twists to her chest, forcing Locke to do likewise.
Those familiar with her Golden State career buzz in anticipation as O’Neal moves into a push-up position and does just that while pivoting her frame enough to reach back and grab her right boot top. Pulling back, the Angel increases the pressure on Ashley’s skull exponentially, The San Francisco native’s Golden Gate locked in.
Golden Gate ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jwwoUadYF0 ) @ 5:45
With Aphrodite’s face turning rosy, head in a vise, and her back arched back at a frightening angle, there’s little option but to tap within a handful of seconds, vigorously slapping O’Neal’s folded stems to get her attention.
Colleen and Castle notice simultaneously and Nick calls for the bell while the California Angel releases and leaps to her feet in celebration. As she wearily staggers to a corner and ascends to party with the roaring crowd, the ring announcer makes it official.
“Your winner…the California Angel…Colleen O’Neal!”
As Ashley rolls to her back and cradles her throbbing skull, the redhead pumps a fist at the adoring Choir, any thought she isn’t at a level to compete in FAWN pushed aside, that she’s too old for a new chapter obliterated.
Even in Florida and FAWN, the Angel could still fly high!
( www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePVErcAUzK8 )
Though she’s looking at the floor, those in attendance are impressed even without seeing her face. The flaxen-haired beauty is indeed an Amazon, a statuesque blonde not far from six feet, her legs seemingly a good two thirds of that total.
ASHLEY LOCKE:
Said gams are exquisitely sculpted and appear downright dangerous, as do her abdominals and chest, the latter armored in an orangish-red leather bikini top decorated with an intricate pattern of small metal studs. Her bottoms match the top, as do her pads and boots, though the pads are basic lycra and lack any sort of adornment. A detail for the discerning eye, the outer edge of each boot is adorned with a stylized head and shoulders of a black horse.
Striding down the ramp, the lanky blonde shows not the slightest interest in the fans reaching out to her, those lengthy legs carrying her to ringside at a rapid rate. Climbing elegantly up the steps, the former, long-time tag champion as a member of The Three slips lithely through the ropes then saunters to the center of the ring. She raises her arms in an invitation for all present to admire her transcendent form. Admire they do, wolf whistles mingling with the roars as the former Aphrodite strides to her corner, preparing for a rare singles challenge.
The statuesque blonde turns to the crowd and motions the assembled to lower to their knees to worship the Goddess of Love and The Three’s most underrated deity. The crowd is unwilling to pray to the golden-maned idol, cheers turning to a mix with jeers, the Black Courtier’s arrogance turning some against her. The ring announcer cuts in to officially welcome the divine creature to battle.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. First, hailing from New York, New York, she stands five feet eleven inches tall and weighs in at one hundred and forty pounds. She is the Heartbreaker and the Love-taker, Aphrodite herself, this is… ASHLEY LOCKE!”
Locke climbs to the middle buckle, spreads her long arms and legs wide, demanding and receiving attention, though it could be considered mixed at best, the remainder of the night’s judgment likely dependent on the opponent she would face.
As Katy Perry’s California Gurls erupts from the sound system, the crowd seems unsure if this can possibly mean what it might, and that FAWN has indeed added Golden State Wrestling’s enduring icon. ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=F57P9C4SAW4 )
The redhead emerges and takes a stance, hands on hips, admiring the growing ovation, the FAWNatics both welcoming and welcoming back Aphrodite’s long-ago tag partner Artemis and the LA-based fed’s legendary California Angel Colleen O’Neal.
COLLEEN O’NEAL
The blue-eyed beauty waves to her adoring and inaugural Florida-based choir before racing to the ring in her classic style. The long-time face of the Golden State franchise sprints to the steps before halting and drinking in what has to be one of the most glorious moments of a fateful career.
The prodigal daughter ascends the steps and hops over the top, taking a tour of the FAWN ring she’d last seen over a decade ago. The auburn-haired veteran gazes at her former fellow goddess, Colleen having long given up her title, becoming an immortal mortal in the Golden State.
She strides to the towering blonde and offers a hand, but Locke wants none of it, slapping away the proffered palm. O’Neal looks momentarily dejected but accepts there will be no rapprochement between the one-time deities. The California Angel backs her way toward her corner, the years teaching her better than to turn her head to such a dangerous and motivated foe.
Colleen makes as though she is unclasping her surrendered GSW championship hardware from around her waist, raising the mock belt high, lifting the decibels further as the Orlando crowd understands it to mean she is on a flightpath to claim her first FAWN belt, whichever and whenever that might be.
Garbed in her iconic tight spandex one-piece, halved in pink and sky blue with pink boots to mid-thigh and silver fingerless gloves, the Cali native is ready for her surprise entrance back into women wrestling’s premiere promotion.
Gear: ( www.dollskill.com/halloween-sexy-wrestling-champ-costume-set-pink-turquoise.html?gclid=Cj0KCQiAt_PuBRDcARIsAMNlBdr_8wE5qC_kyeTo6lFLvIAIVfi-oFHrA_YlWbDRyxEebaPXuRlroFIaAmIzEALw_wcB without the ‘belt’ ) .
The ring announcer waits for a break in the ovation and gives up after a half-dozen more seconds, deciding to shout instead.
“AND HER OPPONENT! Standing five feet three inches tall and weighing in at 114 pounds. From San Francisco, FAWN’s newest cherub, the California Angel…Colleen O’Neal!”
As the throng threatens to bring the roof down, the beloved Colleen bows to her new Choir. Noticing Ashley slinking out to the center of the ring, O’Neal turns her attention back to a foe that has eight inches and 25 pounds on her, the GSW icon most definitely thrown into the deep end of the pool where she’ll have to use her wile to swim with the sharks rather than be eaten alive, a veteran victim on a last failed ‘glory tour’.
The bell brings the meeting of former friends together. Ashley takes the direct approach. Considering the physical deficits to which O’Neal must adjust, she circles out of her corner, keeping a couple feet from Locke as she puts her knowledge to bear on evening the odds. Finally, the redhead surges forward, ready for a collar-and-elbow when there seems no other choice. But when the Love-taker reaches, Colleen slips beneath her grasp and wheels behind the tall grappler, wrapping a waistlock around the former tag champion. Lowering into a slight crouch, Ashley anchors herself against any throw the smaller FAWN newcomer might have in mind and O’Neal can barely budge Locke.
But the years have proven what the former Artemis couldn’t, and O’Neal pushes the sole of her boot into the pit of Locke’s left knee, forcing the blonde to genuflect in front of her, allowing Colleen to slap on a side headlock when she slides next to Ashley. Locke pushes back to stooped feet. O’Neal, keeping her foe bent at the waist with the possession of the blonde’s braincase, races forward. She leaps, legs extended, to bulldog the Love-Taker, but the blonde’s palms push against the hips of O’Neal and she pops loose, remaining on her feet. Colleen manages to stick her landing instead of crashing to her backside and the combatants are back to neutral.
The former Aphrodite gives the redhead a golf clap and Colleen returns a bow, grim emerging as she starts to orbit around the ring again, the two coming together centerstage, this time the lock-up connecting. It takes but an instant for Ashley to begin rattling her counterpart from side to side, showing off her strength advantage. She sends the Angel into a backpedal, pressing Colleen’s back into the buckles before releasing and sending a hammer blow toward the crown of O’Neal’s skull. But age hasn’t taken away most of the veteran’s quickness. She ducks under and slides by, Ashley impacting the top buckle instead.
Taking a legal liberty, she grabs Ashley by her long flaxen locks from behind and sends Locke’s forehead banging into the top buckle. However, an attempt at a second is upended when the blonde wraps her palms around the top ropes on either side to put on the brakes. Ashley shakes her head.
“It’s adorable you made something of yourself in the minors,” Ashley purrs, “but your back in the bigs now.”
Locke swings an elbow back, but Colleen deftly dips beneath. Now face to face, or more accurately face-to-neck, O’Neal uses Ashley’s temporary lack of balance after the swing and mis to wrap her arms around the former tag champ and belly-to-belly suplex her up and over, drawing a surprised murmur from the FAWNatics.
Ashley lands on her spine, skidding to a stop. She reaches for her aching lower back as she sits up, then receives a soccer kick to the afflicted area from the auburn-haired grappler, Colleen continuing to show she belongs.
As Ashley’s spine curves further in reaction, Colleen’s on the move, throwing her frame into the ropes in front of Locke and rebounding into a low dropkick to the Love-taker’s chest, flattening her foe to the canvas and bouncing the back of her skull into the thinly-sheathed plywood.
Colleen passes on a pin atop the horizontal blonde, instead climbing to her feet and hitting the cables again, this time leaping into the middle rope while grabbing the top. She springboards into a u-turn and leaps above the splayed Aphrodite, dropping a leg across the chest and throat of her foe. Ashley spasms, legs flying upward before she settles into a pinned position, the GSW icon leaving her abbreviated legs draped across for the…
ONE…
Locke’s shoves the limbs off and rolls up to hands and knees, rubbing her throat, eyes ablaze with anger at being treated like a rookie.
O’Neal isn’t concerned about Ashley’s mental state, the professional’s professional snatches Locke’s noggin and pulls her to stooped feet. She surges forward with Locke in tow, again leaping with legs extended. And this time Ashley has no response, bulldogged into the canvas roughly. The towering blonde idly flops to her back after the impact, staring blankly into space as Colleen covers in a lateral press, hooking one of Locke’s endless legs for the…
ONE…
TWO…
Ashley throws a shoulder up with enough force, it helps O’Neal pop to her feet. There’s a ‘damn’ moment in Colleen’s baby blues, but it’s only there a split-second before the veteran is back in motion.
Colleen takes off for the ropes again while Ashley slowly rises to her feet. She’s halfway up when the redhead returns and O’Neal, despite her small size, knocks Locke flat, using her foe’s instability to more than overcome the size disadvantage. O’Neal takes a moment to look down on the splayed blonde and heads for the opposite cables. Again, Ashley tries to beat the rebounding Angel to stable verticality but again the San Fran native plows through the bigger blonde, putting Ashley on her back.
Though hovering above the flattened Aphrodite, Colleen is huffing and puffing, Mother Time rearing her noble head. Something more is necessary. O’Neal heads for the nearest buckles, climbing up carefully and turning to find a rising foe. The auburn-haired grappler leaps from her perch, folding into a tuck as she flies at the wide-eyed Ashley for a meteora.
Meteora ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=lA20IgALrLI )
But the power of the Love-taker presents, the big blonde catching the balled Colleen. She staggers but does not tumble to the canvas. Instead, after collecting her balance, she transitions to a ring-rattling powerbomb, nearly putting the California Angel THROUGH the deck, Colleen bouncing a foot off the mat before spreading into a lifeless starfish above, her legs still possessed by the seated Locke, the shoulders the former Artemis on the canvas for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
O’Neal rolls a shoulder off the mat, flopping to her side, still between the extended and limitless legs of the former tag champion.
Locke slowly moves to her knees, recovering from the early onslaught, but latching onto O’Neal’s auburn locks and pulling her up to a seated position, the glazed baby blues showing vacancy. With her free hand, Ashley paintbrushes the dazed Angel, whipping O’Neal’s head to the side but bringing some of the grappler’s senses back into to place.
Ashley hauls Colleen up with her, moves her grip to a wrist and heaves the veteran on her way to the ropes. O’Neal rebounds, this time out of control, and is met with a Big Boot from the Amazonian, nearly ripping Colleen’s head from her neck, the back of O’Neal’s skull bouncing off the canvas in frightening fashion. Locke stands over the splayed redhead, gazing down.
“You haven’t changed that much,” Locke assures. “Except the crow’s feet.”
The Love-taker places a boot on Colleen’s chest and Castle drops to the canvas to count it out…
ONE…
TWO…
O’Neal shoves the foot off and rolls to hands and knees where she tries to let her gray matter catch up to her reflexes. Ashley ‘helps’ the Golden State Wrestling icon to her feet. She sidles behind the wobbling redhead, slipping her arms around the head and neck of her long-ago partner, finally tightening a cobra clutch around the temples and carotid of her foe. But Ashley has no intention of waiting until the smaller wrestler can no longer take the pressure and the mass on her slumping shoulders.
Ashley uses the constricting grip to launch O’Neal into the air and THUMP her into the deck hard enough the prodigal daughter might have made a plywood angel instead of a snow version.
Cobra Clutch Slam: ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcbMuW5-mj0 )
Convinced, she’s righted the pecking order of greater and lesser goddesses, Ashley rises and parades around the ring, pointing back at the stirring O’Neal, shouting about Colleen’s new status as a significantly smaller fish in a large pond.
She returns to a rising Angel, dips and wraps her arms around the spandex-sheathed tummy of the veteran, cinching tight, chest to chest, lifting O’Neal to tiptoes and beyond. Bear hug locked behind the lower back of the wincing Colleen, Ashley shakes her diminutive foe from side to side.
Starch removed, the towering blonde lets Colleen’s boots return to the canvas for a moment. Ashley slips next to her former partner, slipping her head beneath a limp arm of O’Neal. Wrapping an arm around the lower back of the Angel, she vaults a drowsy Colleen off the canvas and in a graceful sweeping motion, deposits O’Neal to the deck with an Olympic Slam.
Olympic Slam ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9ABHCVOyns )
Showing more than the anguish of the landing but also her years of in-ring action, Colleen rolls out under the nearby bottom rope after the impact, plopping to the floor in an attempt to end Aphrodite’s apocalypse.
Ashley has no such interest in the reborn Artemis surviving. It’s clear why Christian has thrown them together. There would be a triumphant return underdog story or an exercise in showing FAWN is where the elite plays. And who’s more so than a member of The Three. The thought leaves Locke with no choice but to follow her victim to the outside, not wanting O’Neal to escape with a count-out defeat, one that might be spun into something approaching a draw.
The towering blonde’s boots land on the floor a few feet from the Angel, Collen kneeling, leaning into the ring steps as she tries to recover. She glances up at the approaching Aphrodite and holds up a plaintive hand.
“You want pity?” Locke growls. “You came back to the wrong place.”
Ashley sends a looping kick at Colleen’s chin, but the auburn-haired grappler ducks clear and Locke sends her foot CRASHING into the steel steps. Yelping in pain from the miss, Ashley doesn’t dare put any weight on the injured ankle. She leans against the apron as the redhead rises, snatching Lock’s leg as she does.
Lifting the limb of her foe, the FAWN returnee draws it in closer, locking an arm around the blonde’s knee. She uses the stem has a buggywhip, spinning Ashley by violently wrenching her leg, sending the Amazonian’s torso RAMMING into the multileveled steel with a resounding CLANG. As the released Ashley tumbles off the other side of the steps, pooling around the corner, Colleen wearily climbs to her feet and moves to the top step, looking over Locke.
“Just respect,” the California Angel insists as she watches the lanky blonde crabwalk away from her in retreat, ass sliding along the thinly-padded cement.
Halfway down the length of the ring, seemingly safely removed from her foe, Ashley rises. As she does, the beloved Bay Area idol skips to the edge of the mat, takes a couple steps, and LAUNCHES in a forward flip, the airborne icon CRASHING into Locke’s chest. The duo collapse to the arena floor, but it’s the former Artemis on top, Ashley violently sandwiched to the cement.
The wincing Colleen rolls off her crash pad, moves to the barricade and pumps her fist at the adoring crowd, the Floridians already taking California’s Angel under their wings. The blue-eyed ginger merrily slaps hands with a couple front-row denizens before turning her attention back to the ridiculously leggy but badly battered task at hand.
With the count to ‘SEVEN’, Castle proceeding at a glacier pace to keep the match from finishing in unsatisfying fashion, Colleen gathers up the considerably bigger blonde and uses Ashley’s own determination to rise to stuff the Love-taker back in the squared circle. O’Neal follows at ‘NINE’, not a hint of worry in the veteran’s visage, Colleen’s experience in beating counts keeping her calm.
O’Neal watches intently as Ashley reaches hands and knees. The energized Angel races in from the side, grabbing Locke’s head as she flies by in a forward flip and sends the Goddess of Love crashing to the canvas with a spinning neckbreaker. Ashley cradles her head, beautiful face contorted in a grimace. The crowd roars as Colleen uses the momentum to pop to her feet. Some worried Golden State dominance meant little on her new level, but the blazing blue eyes of the rapturous redhead show her talent level translates. O’Neal pumps her fist at the crowd, playing to her new Choir, and they respond with a roaring ovation.
Colleen quickly turns her attention back to the splayed Locke. Passing on a pin attempt, O’Neal locks a two-handed grip around Ashley’s noggin and tugs the rubbery, flaxen-maned deity to her haunches.
“Do you think I’m ready for the big leagues, now?” O’Neal asks.
Ashley shrieks in a rage, sending an uppercut between the alabaster thighs of her former partner, the crook of Locke’s elbow SMASHING into the Angel’s kitty. Azure eyes bugging, her jaw dropping, Colleen rises to tiptoes, the pain pulsating through her frame. Locke removes her arm and uses the frozen O’Neal to climb to her feet where, even slightly bent, she towers over the Bay Area beauty.
“There’s your answer, midget,” Ashley grunts.
The Love-taker slides behind the teary-eyed FAWN newbie, wraps her arms tight around Colleen’s gulping midriff and lifts her off the canvas. The Amazon genuflects and doubles down on Colleen’s aching undercarriage with an Atomic Drop, seemingly attempting to split O’Neal up the middle.
Colleen’s quaking legs keep her vertical for a few seconds after the knee of the overlooked member of The Three is removed, but she finally collapses in on herself, dropping into a fetal ball as Locke works out some of aches and pains.
“If you don’t believe there are levels of heaven,” Ashley offers between deep breaths, “you better understand there are levels of hell. And you’re going to pass through every one of them until I decide when your ‘welcome home’ ends.”
The Love-taker plucks what’s left of O’Neal out of her shell, grasping a shoulder and elbow when she gets the redheaded stepchild straightened enough to fling to the opposite ropes. Using an Irish Whip, Locke sends Colleen on her way, the power of the blonde transferred to the waning Angel. O’Neal flies into the rubber-coated steel and rebounds toward a ready Ashley. Locke lifts a Big Boot toward a point directly between Colleen’s eyes.
But the prodigal daughter ducks under, using her lack of height as an advantage, barely breaking stride as she slips under the looming sole. The California Angel sprints to her second set of cables and makes a u-turn toward a spinning Aphrodite. Ashley’s right arm shoots out as Colleen approaches, her hand wrapping around the elegant throat of the freckled veteran. O’Neal’s peepers bulge, her head softly shaking as her foe’s fingers dig into her neck.
Ashley snatches a handful of spandex on the redhead’s near hip with her opposite hand and UP COLLEEN GOES, the golden-maned Amazon lifting her foe HIGH and THUMPING her to the thinly-sheathed plywood with a chokeslam that rattles the ring and does the same and then some to the demolished O’Neal, Collen spasming to stillness in a starfish at the feet of the woman who, truth be told, certainly looks more the part of a goddess.
Ashley lowers her right knee to Colleen’s bosom, arrogantly pinning the annihilated Angel. Castle drops to the canvas to count out the unhappy result…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The FAWNatics rumble with relief as the lovely Left Coaster revivifies, throwing a shoulder up with the help of the haughty pin. O’Neal rolls to a shoulder and hip, but it’s all she can manage, an angry Aphrodite forced to ‘help’ the spent redhead up if she wants to continue the assault on the helpless returnee.
Dipping in front of the swaying, barely aware redhead, Ashley straps her arms around O’Neal’s midriff and cinches tight. She lifts her smaller foe off the canvas, showing off the sinewy, lean, long power Colleen can’t match. Forcing the breath from the gasping, groaning Angel, Locke works the GSW icon like a bellows, closing the loop of her embrace in stages, draining what’s left of the veteran, the tips of Colleen’s boots stretching to find solid ground. The flaxen-haired Amazon rattles the increasingly limp and lethargic O’Neal then tosses her away like a chew toy, the former Artemis left in a heap at the feet of the glistening Goddess of Love.
Ashley plays to the jeering crowd, letting them know she is what a deity looks like as she lords over the softly stirring auburn-haired warrior. With Colleen not recovering to vertical as quickly as Aphrodite desires, the blonde tugs a struggling O’Neal to her feet. She inserts the dipped head of her foe between her endlessly long legs and wraps her arms around Colleen’s gulping midriff. With a grunt, she flips the flaccid Colleen up her frame, shifting O’Neal to her right shoulder on the way up, leaving the California Angel in an awkward arch across it.
Ashley stomps in a circuit around the ring, sending pulses of pain through Colleen’s battered vertebrae with every thumping step. Reaching the end of her trip, she manically rattles O’Neal’s arched frame on her shoulder, demanding the Angel surrender. Though Colleen squeaks piteously, she doesn’t give in and a pissed Locke drops to her backside trying to snap her foe’s spine in two.
A jellied Colleen rolls off, ending prone and unmoving, the formerly excited crowd silenced at the show of dominance on the part of the Love-taker. After drawing in a few extra recovery breaths, Ashley slides to the splayed redhead and covers in a lateral press, hooking a leg for good measure for the…
ONE…
TWO…
THRNOOO!
The cruel story of O’Neal’s failed return is put on hold by her stalwart determination, Colleen eeking a shoulder off the canvas to Ashley’s dismay. Locke runs a set of fingers through her long golden locks, Aphrodite approaching disbelief. Not that it mattered. She would pierce the Angel’s heart with Cupid’s Arrow and that would be the end of the fairy tale for the returnee.
Grabbing O’Neal by her head and a wrist, Locke pulls the rubbery redhead to her feet and leans her against the ropes. She balls her right fist and gives it a smooch before loading the Heart Punch that obliterated the bloodpumper of many a foe. She shoots the deadly ‘arrow’ toward the cleft of Colleen’s bosom but the Angel pivots and the Arrow glides past, missing its mark.
Colleen sends a side kick blasting into the expansive abs of the Amazon, and another, and another, the tall blonde appearing less goddess-like after each. The auburn-haired bulldog tugs the slightly bent Locke into a front facelock and, grabbing a handful of the Love-taker’s garb on her hip, snap suplexes the bigger woman up and over. Ashley’s spine BANGS into the deck. But the adrenaline-filled Angel isn’t done. She rolls to her feet, bringing Ashley with her, rinses and repeats. AGAIN the Goddess of Love THUMPS into the mat, back arching. Determined to get her set of three, Colleen pulls Ashley up again but, seeming to realize the troika is too much for her body to take, she yanks Locke toward her, tumbling to the canvas and into a small package, or as small as a near six-footer can be packaged for the…
ONE…
TWO…
The package pops open, Ashley breaking free and ending on her keister, glancing worriedly at Castle, who holds up two fingers.
Locke’s check gives the recovering redhead a chance to reach her feet and punt Aphrodite in the base of her spine, sending the seated Ashley lurching forward, face twisting in pain from the boot. O’Neal turns and hits the ropes, racing out and grabbing Locke’s head from behind as she flips over a shoulder, PLANTING the face of the former tag champ into the canvas-covered plywood between her lengthy stems. Ashley whiplashes from the impact, ending prone and staring at the rafters in a daze.
Despite her moniker, the Angel isn’t a frequent flyer but that doesn’t stop the veteran from hustling to the nearby buckles, climbing to the middle and launching with legs extended, dropping one of the abbreviated stems across the throat of her foe. Ashley’s body spasms from the impact before falling still, flat under O’Neal, who scrambles to a crossbody pin for the…
ONE…
TWO…
AGAIN the Cali legend barely gets the second slap from Castle let alone a third before she’s pushed off. On her knees, Colleen sweeps her auburn mane back with both sets of fingers, showing exasperation. She rises and calls upon her newfound Choir for inspiration. The crowd doesn’t hesitate, cheering on their new favorite.
The veteran slips behind a rising, wobbly Ashley. She dips her head between the trembling stems of the towering blonde, wrapping her arms around the gams of the golden-maned Goddess and UP Ashley DOESN’T go. Perhaps foolishly, Colleen tries for her Cali Redwood electric chair drop by elevating the blonde on her shoulders for the ring-rattling ending, but the size difference and her condition reduce the effort to a nudge upward for the Love-taker, moving her to tiptoes and no further.
Instead, reaching behind her, Aphrodite hooks the Angel’s arms, Colleen’s head still tight between Locke’s thighs. The third of The Three drops to her knees, PLANTING Colleen’s face into the mat with an inverted Drop Out of which Cynthia Mitchell would be proud. Ashely flops forward to her chest, spent. But O’Neal, also face down between the blonde’s gams, is barely conscious, save an errant twitch.
As the crowd chants “THIS IS AWESOME”, a pained Castle knows he can’t hold his count any longer and starts moving toward ‘TEN’ on both stilled figures.
At ‘FIVE’, Ashley pushes to hands and knees and casts a glance over a shoulder. As Colleen does the same at ‘EIGHT’, the blonde throws a mule kick behind her, CRACKING it between the baby blues of her former friend and sending O’Neal tumbling away, back into a semi-stupor as the Love-taker slowly rises.
Ashley strides to the dilapidated veteran and plucks her off the canvas, guiding the dazed Angel to the nearest set of buckles. She lifts the redhead from behind, placing her in a stance on the middle ropes then dipping an arm between O’Neal’s jellied legs, starting to lift her off for Love At First Sight.
Love At First Sight ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuEoimAW604 )
But before Ashley can pull away from the corner and deliver the Burning Hammer that would end the Angel’s beautiful story, Colleen creates extra thrust, pushing off the buckles and flipping out of Ashley’s grasp, landing on her boot soles, if unsteadily.
The startled Locke pivots into a toe kick, Colleen doubling over the Amazon, a burst of breath escaping Ashley’s lips. Springing into action literally, Colleen captures Ashley’s lowered head in a front facelock and leaps past Locke to the middle buckle. She pushes away, spinning both her and her cargo, and lays out, SPIKING the crown of Aphrodite’s skull into the canvas with a springboard DDT. Ashley flips through the impact, skidding to a flaccid stop mid-ring.
Colleen drops next to the no longer towering blonde, on her back next to Ashley, though pointed in the opposite direction. She slips a figure-four head scissors around the skull of her former partner then twists to her chest, forcing Locke to do likewise.
Those familiar with her Golden State career buzz in anticipation as O’Neal moves into a push-up position and does just that while pivoting her frame enough to reach back and grab her right boot top. Pulling back, the Angel increases the pressure on Ashley’s skull exponentially, The San Francisco native’s Golden Gate locked in.
Golden Gate ( www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jwwoUadYF0 ) @ 5:45
With Aphrodite’s face turning rosy, head in a vise, and her back arched back at a frightening angle, there’s little option but to tap within a handful of seconds, vigorously slapping O’Neal’s folded stems to get her attention.
Colleen and Castle notice simultaneously and Nick calls for the bell while the California Angel releases and leaps to her feet in celebration. As she wearily staggers to a corner and ascends to party with the roaring crowd, the ring announcer makes it official.
“Your winner…the California Angel…Colleen O’Neal!”
As Ashley rolls to her back and cradles her throbbing skull, the redhead pumps a fist at the adoring Choir, any thought she isn’t at a level to compete in FAWN pushed aside, that she’s too old for a new chapter obliterated.
Even in Florida and FAWN, the Angel could still fly high!